


Watchdog

by JamieSilver-SamParker (jujubiest)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Corruption, Crime Fighting, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Police Brutality, Superheroes, Vigilantism, single mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/JamieSilver-SamParker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The streets of Castle City are not safe; street thugs and organized crime go unchecked by a corrupt police force. The city's most powerful denizens, including many members of its government, live well by stepping on the necks of the desperate and destitute. There are a few who wish to fight this broken system, but lack the resources, or the support, or else the courage, to do what needs to be done.</p><p>They need someone to unite them, someone to give them hope, someone to spur them to do what they can. Someone to do what needs to be done when they can't. Castle City needs a hero to drag all the lies and corruption into the light of day, for all to see, so that the powerful can no longer hide in anonymity while the meek inherit the mess they're making.</p><p>Castle City needs a watchdog. And it's about to get one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watchdog

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginnings of what will hopefully be a sizeable work of original fiction, based on a post on my tumblr. The concept is that we have a superhero who, instead of being a billionaire with armor or wild fighting skills, is a single working mother of two who lives in a city ravaged by crime and corruption. She fights to make her children safer, but also to give a second chance to a lot of the other young people who are the first and most helpless victims of gang violence and street crime.

Amelia Johnson walked quickly down the dark, quiet street, purse clutched tightly against her side underneath one arm. It was late, much later than she usually left work, and she was nervous. Jumpy. Every little sound was a predator lurking in the shadows. She wasn't usually this on edge, even at night. It was just that ever since she'd turned left at the corner of Broad and Central Streets, she'd had the strangest feeling, as though someone was...watching her.

She gave her head a little shake and walked faster. Her apartment was only three blocks away; she'd feel better once she got inside and locked the door behind her.

A muffled footfall sounded behind her on the sidewalk. Then another, and another. There was no mistaking it. Her insides froze. She resisted the urge to turn around and look, instead quickening her pace yet again and reaching into her pocket with the hand not clutching the strap of her purse. The little spray canister of mace was pink, with red polka-dots. It looked completely non-threatening, but she felt better the moment it was in her hand. If the person behind her was just another pedestrian, out late and making their way back home, they would pass her completely. Maybe give her a weird look for doing a one-eighty in the middle of the street all of a sudden. But if it was someone else...someone less benign, with less innocent intentions...she would be ready with a spray can full of blinding pain.

She took a deep breath.  _Turn, assess, aim, spray._ She turned.

There was no one there at all. Just an empty street, quiet buildings with darkened windows lining either side.

* * *

The first call of Sergeant Andy Blalock's morning had him groaning into his coffee cup.

"God dammit, another one."

"Another who now?" Detective Johanna Anderson spoke up from behind a pile of paperwork on her desk. Johanna was easily the best detective they had on the squad, but she was always behind on her paperwork.

"Never you mind, detective. Burke, Jenner," he addressed the other two detectives currently in the room. "You're with me. We got another guy trussed up in the square with a sign above his head."

"Sarge!" Johanna protested, half-standing. These bizarre occurrences had fascinated her from the beginning, and Andy knew she wasn't going to like being left behind, especially not in favor of Jenner.

"Sarge nothin'," he said sternly, gesturing for the other two to head for the door. "'Til you finish your paperwork, this guy's none a your concern, you hear?"

Her indignant grumbling followed him all the way out of the precinct.

Tommy Burke and Elliott Jenner weren't bad detectives, by any means. In Andy's opinion, of course, there was no such thing. Sure, you had your dirty detectives and your lazy detectives, but if you were really that bad at the job you'd never make detective in the first place. Burke and Jenner didn't have the maniacal drive of Johanna Anderson...but then, few did. Johanna was brilliant but dangerous; a crusader with a chip on her shoulder and something to prove. With a case as unusual and high-profile as this one, sometimes it was better to have a by-the-book pair like these two on it than a would-be hero out to save the world.

The guy was down by the time they arrived, and being checked out by an EMT. He was probably fine, other than some bruises from his restraints and maybe a little exposure. There were still dozens of people milling around, curious passerby rubbernecking the crime scene. Nobody had even bothered to rope it off yet. He grit his teeth.

"Lucky for this guy it's summer, eh?" Burke said at his elbow. Lucky indeed. Summers in Castle City were warm and wet. It hadn't rained the night before, but the air was still thick with early morning humidity that hadn't had time to burn off. It stank of sewage and car exhaust.

"Yeah, well, we better catch this nut before winter or we'll have a buncha frozen dirtbags on our hands," he muttered.

Not that it would be such a great loss to the human race in this case, at least if the sign turned out to be true. Stalker. Peeping Tom. Rapist. The ugly words stood out in bright red paint on plain, white posterboard. It was curling at the edges, and the words were running, but they were still clearly readable even from a distance. There was a small cardboard box underneath it, positioned so that it would have been at the guy's feet. Andy gestured to Burke, and he jogged over to fetch it. If this thing held true to pattern, the box would contain irrefutable evidence of the claims made on the board, or at the very least point them in the right direction to investigate further. And with this kind of attention, they would have no choice but to follow the trail wherever it may lead.

So far, the signs hadn't been wrong once.

Andy took the box from Burke and then addressed him along with Jenner.

"We need to tape this whole area off, get forensics down here and see if we can get anything on this guy. I want all these people questioned, find out if any of them saw anything. We don't let this happen again, you understand? We catch him. Go."

* * *

Teresa Zavala arrived at work five minutes late, looking tired and less than collected. It had become a gradual habit over the last few weeks, a slow slide from professional, put together and punctual to barely-present and perpetually tardy. Wisps of dark hair escaped her usually neat ponytail, and the sleeves of her wrinkled blazer were rolled unevenly, as though she had done it in a hurry and without the aid of a mirror. Isadora Young, her coworker and best friend, gave her a concerned sideways glance from her stool behind the teller's counter.

"How gnarly was the cat that dragged  _you_ in?" She whispered. Teresa gave her a small, exhausted grin as she hastily switched her flats out for a pair of heels in her duffel and then shoved the bag, still half-unzipped, under the counter at her feet.

"Late night," she explained simply. "Kids."

"Ah," Isadora--Izzy to her friends--said knowingly. "I take it Gabe's bad dreams are back?"

"Unfortunately. I do everything I can to make him feel safe, but he's still so scared all the time."

"You'll figure it out," Izzy said soothingly. "You're super mom, right?"

"Right. Super mom, that's me," Teresa laughed.

If she only knew.

 


End file.
